Scarlett and Doyle oneshot
by Periodic Brilliance
Summary: The failings of technology have a way of bringing people together. Scarlet and Doyle one-shot. Set in an army base well before they meet again in Great Britain. Doyle's got the hots for Scarlet.


Oneshot

Warning: smut. It's rated M for a reason. Please don't read if you're under 18.

Summary: The failings of technology have a way of bringing people together. Scarlet and Doyle one-shot. Set in an army base well before they meet again in Great Britain. Doyle's got the hots for Scarlet and smuttiness ensues.

A/N: Please excuse any factual errors. A) I'm Canadian and not exactly savvy on the American army system, and B) I'm basing what I know off of movies and TV. But since it's a one-shot, I think I should be ok.

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**Midnight – Army Base in Southern California**

Scarlet stood with her hands braced on either side of the washing machine. It was just past midnight and here she was, in the laundry tent, trying to get the washing machine to do what it was supposed to. She turned the dial to the setting she wanting and pushed the "on" button. The florescent lights flickered overhead and the washer stayed still.

"Fucking piece of shit!" There was a resounding bang as Scarlet kicked the corner of the machine with her heavy combat boot. She took a deep breath, grinding her teeth in an effort to control her temper. A chuckle from the tent flap made her spin around, her hand going to the handgun she kept strapped to her side at all times.

The man put his hands in the air, "Whoa there. Don't shoot."

Scarlet kept her hand on her gun, "Who are you?"

"Private Doyle."

"Why aren't you in your bunk?" Scarlet asked as she lowered her hand from the holster at her side. She'd seen him around the base before but with her being a sergeant and outranking him they'd never had any actual contact before now.

"Why aren't you in yours?"

"Because this fucking machine won't work!" She punctuated her sentence with another kick to the washer.

Doyle laughed and before she knew what had happened, he had crossed the room and was directly behind her. "Here, let me help." He moved so that his arms were on either side of her and she was trapped between the washing machine and his rock hard body. His right hand 

turned the dial counter-clockwise to where she'd had it before and then his left popped the on button. With a low rumble, the washing machine started its cycle.

Titling her head back and to the side, Scarlet looked up at Doyle. "Thanks." She whispered.

"Any time." His breath against her ear and neck sent shivers down her spine.

"Would you mind moving?"

A low chuckle in her ear cause her to arch into him, "I'm not going anywhere."

"I fucking outrank you, Doyle." There was a hard, desperate edge to her voice. "Now move!"

Doyle stepped back, only to spin Scarlet around so that she was facing him. His eyes still glued to hers, he reached behind him and flicked off the lights above them.

"What are you doing?" Scarlet tilted her head up, defiant to the end.

"How long's it been since you had a man between your legs, Sergeant?"

Her hand cracked against his cheek, "None of your goddamn business, Private. Now get the fuck off me."

His only answer was to pull her arms behind her and pin them there with one hand. "And I meant a real man. Not some pansy civy. A man who knows what he's doing. Who knows how to make you scream." Doyle's free hand was roaming her body while he spoke. It slid from her hip up to her waist, and from there he inched it up towards her breast. A small smile appeared on his face as he watched her chest rise and fall rapidly. As his hand moved to cup her breast, Doyle leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

Scarlet could hardly breathe. Doyle was attacking her normally controlled senses so methodically she couldn't think straight. He ran his tongue across her lips and she lost all control. Her mouth attacked his and he responded in kind. Scarlet struggled to release her hands from behind her and Doyle finally gave in, the hand that had been holding hers going straight to her free breast. She groaned into his mouth when his fingers pinched her nipples, hard. How the fuck does he know I like it rough? She thought as he continued his assault on her body and senses.

Doyle slipped one hand underneath her long-sleeved green shirt and was met with a silky smoothness that seemed almost impossible in the lifestyle they led. His hand moved around to her lower back and he began to tug her shirt up, exposing her satiny skin to his gaze. "Put your arms up." His voice was low and husky. For once, Scarlet complied without protest, having given into their mutual lust.

"Now you." Was all Scarlet managed to gasp out before his mouth was on hers again. It wasn't as soft as the first kiss had been. This time he plundered her mouth, taking what he wanted, leaving her weak in the knees and gasping for air when he wrenched his mouth away from hers. Through her haze of lust, the smirk on his face managed to register, but this time, instead of slapping him, she pulled his tight-fitting T-shirt from the waistband of his pants and tugged it up his body. He grabbed his shirt from her hands and finished the job himself when she was taking her own sweet time about it.

Doyle stood there for a moment, enjoying the look of rapture on her face as she took in his muscled body. A slow smile spread across Scarlet's face. With one graceful move she pulled her cross-trainer off over her head. "Now we're even." Her smile widened when she saw Doyle gulp.

Doyle was losing control of the situation. He was supposed to be in charge of this encounter, not this raven-haired spit-fire. Quickly switching to his plan B, he pushed her back until her hips met with the washer. "Don't move." Was all he said as he began a relentless assault of kisses and love bites along her torso.

"If you leave any of those where people can see…" Scarlet trailed of in what she hoped was a menacing tone, despite the fact that her head was thrown back in ecstasy. While she had been uttering threats, Doyle had continued down from her neck to taste her deliciously full breasts. He sucked one nipple into his mouth, and when she arched herself further into him he gave a little nip. "I told you not to move."

Scarlet was losing her mind. There was Doyle, leaning down over her, her nipple in his mouth, a mouth that was doing the most wondrous things at the moment, and he expected her to stay still. Like hell. Bracing her hands on the still running washing machine behind her, Scarlet levered herself onto it. Doyle's mouth had left her nipple with a resounding 'pop' when she jumped up onto the washer, and now he was staring at her hard.

Doyle was standing there, debating whether he should punish her for disobeying orders, or pull both their pants down and ram himself into her until she screamed for him. When he thought about it, the latter option allowed for the first to be achieved as well. Two birds with one stone was always the best plan in his mind. Taking a step toward Scarlet, he undid her belt in a rapid motion, then started tugging on the waistband of her cargos. Taking his hint, Scarlet lifted her hips off the top of the washer so that Doyle could pull her pants down around her ankles and half-way off over her boots. Seconds later his own pants were tangled about his ankles as well.

Scarlet moaned as he rubbed the head of his cock against her entrance. Jesus, I'm already dripping wet for him. No need to tease me more, she thought. As he began to push against her another thought hit her, "Do you have protection?"

Doyle smirked. "Us army boys are always prepared for any situation. He bent down, stopping to give a kiss to her pussy, and retrieved a foil square from one of the many pockets of his pants. "Good enough?" He questioned.

"Just put it on and fuck me, Doyle."

"Will do, Serge."

Seconds later, although it seemed like an eternity to Scarlet, Doyle pulled her hips to the front of the washer and eased in her to the hilt.

"Fuck you're tight." He grinned, "It has been a while since you've had a man, hasn't it?"

Scarlet glared at him, but broke eye contact when he snapped his hips up, her head thrown back in pleasure. "Shut up and fuck me already, will—" The rest of her sentence was cut off and Doyle started pounding into her at a furious pace.

"Sweet fucking Jesus you feel good Serge." Doyle panted against her neck.

"Oh god! There! Right there." She drew a ragged breath "Keep doing that." She moaned low in her throat and the sound spurred Doyle on.

"Come on, Scarlett. Let go. I. Want. To. Hear. You. Scream. My. Name." Doyle punctuated every word with a hard snap of his hips, driving his cock into her.

"Fuck. Doyle. OhgodI'mgoingtocome! Doyle!"

Doyle ground his teeth together as Scarlett's inner walls clenched around his dick. As she spiraled down from the pinnacle of ecstasy he kept thrusting.

"Doyle?" Scarlett's words were slurred. "What're you doing?"

"Getting you off a second time." His voice was nonchalant but the grin on his face said otherwise.

"Oh. Okay." Said Scarlett as she let herself be carried away with pleasure again.

The washing machine shuddered to a stop. Scarlett and Doyle had finished moments before and they were still in the same positions as before. Only now they were both gasping for breath and a layer of perspiration covered both their bodies. Scarlett pushed Doyle back a bit and slid off the washing machine. Bending down, she pulled up her undies and pants. Doyle was dressing as well. She searched around for her sports bra; a minute later Doyle was holding it by a 

strap waving it in front of her face to tease her. Snatching it out of his hand she pulled it on, then she boosted herself onto the washing machine to retrieve her T-shirt from on top of one of the fluorescent lights where Doyle had flung it. By the time she hopped down, Doyle was fully dressed.

Suddenly they were both shy. With a hesitant smile, Scarlett walked up to Doyle and gave him a soft kiss on his lips. "Thanks." She whispered.

"Any time." There was a pause, "Scarlett."

With a mock salute he turned and walked out of the tent, leaving Scarlett alone in the darkness. Reaching out, she turned on the lights and opened the washing machine. With a sigh she decided to forgo drying her clothes. Besides, she thought, I can always dry them tomorrow night.

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A/N: My first published FanFic. Review are more than welcome, but flames will be used to roast marshmallows. Hope you all enjoyed it.


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